Mina Koizumi liked quiet places.

Not because she was shy though she absolutely was, but because, in quiet places, emotions didn’t scream at her.

The school garden was her favourite spot. It was tucked behind the old building, half-forgotten and overgrown. A few stubborn cherry trees stretched their branches above the benches, and wildflowers had claimed the corners like they owned the place. Mina didn’t mind. They didn’t talk. They didn’t feel.

Unlike the rest of the school.

She sipped warm tea from the little thermos tucked in her lap. Jasmine today. Her favourite.

Closing her eyes, she let the steam calm her nerves, blurring the colours in the air.

The auras.

They swirled around her classmates like restless spirits, bright, twitchy and loud. Mina had never told anyone, but she could see people's emotions like glowing colours in the air. Happy was yellow. Sad was a deep blue. Anxiety flickered violet. Anger? Angry people were the worst. Red was sharp. It stabbed.

No one believed in powers anymore. Not unless they were on a screen. So, Mina kept her mouth shut, nodded when spoken to, and hoped no one noticed she was weird.

Today, she was doing what she always did: hiding. Until someone walked into her garden. Footsteps, slow and hesitant. She looked up.

A boy stood at the edge of the path, one hand in his pocket, the other clutching a paper lunch bag. He was tall. Pale. His black hair hung over sharp eyes.

Mina recognized him. Everyone had been whispering this morning. The new transfer student. He blinked at her.

Mina blinked back. He had no aura. Not dim. Not dark. Just… nothing. Her fingers tightened around her thermos.

The boy looked at the empty bench across from hers. “Is this spot taken?” he asked, his voice flat but not unfriendly.

Mina shook her head.

He sat.

Silence stretched between them like string pulled too tight.

Mina tried not to panic. She focused on her tea. On the way the steam curled, and not on the static space sitting across from her. Not on the lack of emotion where emotion should be.

And then—Mina’s breath caught.

Had he said that? No. His lips hadn’t moved.

He opened his bag. Unwrapped a rice ball. Took a bite.

She peeked at him. Still no aura. Still not looking at her.

But now she was certain. For just a second, she’d heard something in her head.